Falling
by Rathloriel
Summary: LegolasOC. This is for mature readers, about vampires entering Middle Earth. It's a completely original, powering and mind-blowing story not for the faint hearted. Dare you try something new?


_**Author's Note:**_

**I suppose I should be put in jail for writing this, especially when I have other fanfiction works waiting to be completed in the wings, but for the sake of myself and my sanity, I decided to try and write this. Please forgive my ignorance, or what seems like it, if I get something wrong Tolkien-wise, I don't profess to be a great scholar or author but hopefully this won't be so awful that you will all run and hide... However, I hope that everything remains true to Tolkien's characters. I don't want this to be, and don't see this as a Mary-Sue, but if that is everyone's judgement then who am I to say anything? It's up for debate, so feel free to review and let me know what you feel about this idea and my progress. **

_**Summary:** _

_Vampyres arrive in Middle Earth to change their destiny... Surely it couldn't be? This is a serious fiction, with action and adventure, angst and of course a lot of ill-fated romance. Legolas/OC (could be an alternate universe-stays true to characters in some respects). Post-war, takes place in times of peace._

**WARNING:**

This story is rated R for a reason because of adult themes; it is dark, containing mild/serious implications of sex, violence, language etc. Please heed this caution!

_Disclaimer:_

_I own nothing, apart from the original vampyre characters; everything else belongs to Tolkien, PJ and Newline. _

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_**Falling:**_

**Prologue.**

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_"But first on earth, the vampire sent,  
__Thy corpse shall from its tomb be rent;  
__Then ghastly haunt thy native place,  
__and suck the blood of all thy race"_

**-Lord Byron.**

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_"As long as there is Man, the Vampyre will follow; as long as Man exists, the Vampyre bloodline will exist forevermore. Hidden from thy human eye, they roam... In thy midst, in thy lives and in thy hearts. They are everywhere and yet they are to be seen nowhere. They are the invisible, they are the untouchable. However, they seem to touch Man in ways that would be deemed unholy amongst the worshippers of God, and with this truth, they are connected to the very fibre of Man's soul and they are neither evil nor good; they are a paradox. They are brethren, banished from thy world of the living and cast from the sanctity of light by the forces of **the unknown**. _

**Water is the essence of life for Man, blood is the essence of life for them... **

_It is known that five Vampyre bloodline clans were borne from **them**, each united under one Sun, one Moon and one Sky. _

_The first of these bloodlines is the **Ventrue**; honorable, peaceful members of the Vampyre race. They are the royalty, nobility, warriors, rangers and barbarians formed as the one true bloodline of the Vampyre. This bloodline's existence is said to have preceded ancient times, roaming the lands before the knowledge of B.C._

_The second bloodline is the **Tremere**; the mystics and sages of the clan, these sorcerers and wise healers use their gift of magick to further the Vampyre bloodlines with prosperity, spirit and timeless knowledge. They are the wise ones, the all-seeing, the all-trusting and the all-knowing._

_The third clan is the **Malkavian**; these are true creatures of chaos. Borne with bloodlust, their insanity is inherent with the existence of their multiple personalities. However, from madness, wisdom will follow and from wisdom, power will come. With all their hindrance from insanity, they are a force to be reckoned with when united with their brethren. They are truly magnificent beings among their brethren._

_The fourth of these bloodlines is the **Gangrel**; animals of the Vampyre-they are considered to be the wild beasts of the five clans. At times they are uncontrollable and unpredictable but still, these brothers will remain deadly and dangerous to those who pose any form of threat to the Vampyre clans. Their ranks include rangers and barbarians._

_The final, and perhaps the most feared of these bloodlines are the **Assamites**; considered to be the darkest side of the Vampyre bloodlines, they are the assassins, killers and avengers of Vampyre world. Led by a dark master, they hide in the world of Man, waiting and watching. Their members are taken from the other Vampyre clans, initiated only through rigorous training once they have proven their skills and talent. They welcome those with courage and potential and are seen as the fallen dark angels of the Vampyre world..._

_This knowledge may pass to only those who have been destined to read this text. If these words reach beyond thy mind, beyond the crevice of thy lips, then let it be known that all of Mankind will suffer at the hands of the Vampyre. But ye shall remember-_

**They cannot exist without the blood of Man**... **And without the blood of Man, they may never exist**."

This text was taken from the scriptures of _The Ancient Lore_, section 4:5 entitled _'The Bloodlines of thy Brethren,'_ pg. 446.

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_**Falling.**_

**Chapter One : Here Nor There**

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She opened her hazel eyes to the whispering touch of his lean, muscular body as it gently curved into her naked side. His toned arm was draped across her abdomen, pinning her down to the bed with an unimaginable strength she knew that he could possess.

The cream candle resting on an iron stand in the corner of the darkened room, flickered with maddening delight, dancing to an unsung lullaby as the light grew brighter before ebbing away like a fading shadow, sinking down in a silent crescendo.

A quiet sigh fell from her lips.

Turning to her bed companion she leaned on her elbow, resting her head upon her hand as she allowed herself that one quiet moment to inspect his finely sculpted features, defined by the years they had seen. His raven locks curtained his forehead softly, making his pale skin all the more ethereal... All the more frightening. But by the Gods, he was handsome... The strong jaw that framed his thin lips, usually tense, remained relaxed as he took his moment's rest, unhindered by interruption. She smiled wryly and reached out to brush away the delicate lock of hair that fell over his eyelid.

She froze as his hand caught her wrist, her fingers barely millimetres away from their destination. He opened his eyes slowly and gazed up at her silently, his piercing emerald eyes glinting in the dispersed light from the candle. They flickered with recognition.

"_Lucia_," he breathed softly with his lilting, accented voice as he loosened his grip on her wrist. She pulled her hand away from him, deliberately ignoring the pained expression that flashed across his striking features.

"We should go," she mumbled back, with the barest hint of a mirrored Mediterranean accent at the fringes of her words, "We have been summoned by _them_."

Lucia moved to rise from the large bed but gasped as she was pulled back down, pinned with finality beneath his lithe and athletic naked form. She squirmed slightly as she felt his rough fingers stroking the inside of her smooth thigh, his hand trailing dangerously close to the apex.

He nuzzled the column of her throat with heart-breaking tenderness, "My Lucia, mine oh-mine oh-my perfect Lucia," he chuckled to himself as he quietly sung the ridiculous chant against her earlobe.

Looking blankly up at the ceiling as he spoke, she blinked from her daze as his fingers brushed her core. Her body stirred. Lucia stayed his wandering touch, causing him to look up at her in confusion, "Dante, we must go," she repeated slowly.

He grinned suddenly, shaking his head as she spoke his name whilst baring his perfectly sculpted, ivory canines with vigor. His voice grew deep, sending a violent tremor down her spine, "Soon, my Lucia, soon. But let me love you once more," he placed his chin upon her bared breast, looking up at her with a feral smirk.

She hesitated.

Dante leaned up closer, capturing her lips with his, forcing them into a gentle, goading battle. Lucia knew she was losing, her body was losing its willpower every second his lips were upon hers. His warm tongue slipped deftly into her mouth, causing her to groan with anticipation as she wrapped her willing legs around his tanned hips. She sighed in delight as his hands and fingers teased her aching body towards a welcome pleasure She made a sound of frustration as the pleasure was taken away from her suddenly, earning a rumbling chuckle from the base of his throat.

And then, the world fell away as he plunged into her, into her essence and the very pores of her body. It was all he needed; he took her with an unbound passion, cementing his name in her form with every kiss upon her lips, every subtle lick upon her flesh... Every thrust into her willing body.

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Lucia shook her head as she silently dressed herself before moving to fix her gleaming, shoulder length auburn hair. It was always the same with Dante... _Always_. She was not able to resist his ministrations, she never could. And yet she knew that she didn't love him as he claimed to love her. She had even told him, and he readily accepted her feelings; he still believed that one day, perhaps just one day, she would reciprocate his feelings.

It was sad, for she knew that she would never _love _him.

_Never_. Especially not after the history they shared...

As much as he was handsome, as much as he pleased her and doted upon her every whim, he was not what she wanted. She was still waiting for a more substantial love to claim her, something that would make her mind and body sing with unencumbered joy. It was true that it was selfish of her, Dante was a wonderful companion, but she could not make herself believe that he was _more_ than what he claimed to be, and she had forgiven him over time for making her this way... But she could not believe that _he_ was the love she was waiting for.

In some respects, she had given up on searching for love. Centuries of roaming the earth, and she still had not found a single lover to make her-make her... _Feel_. It was a never-ending cycle of torture and bitterness, of heartache and disruption.

In the end, she had given up and silently vowed not to actively pursuit her desire. She had always been a romantic; cold and aloof on the surface, but '_a softy when it came to matters of the heart_,' as Dante liked to inform her constantly. She would never agree with him of course, and ridiculed his attempts to soften her into a love-sick fool. She knew she hurt him-she could not stop. He was her friend and yet in many respects, he was also her enemy.

Gentle hands came to rest upon her tense shoulders, "What are you so worried about?" Dante whispered into her ear.

Lucia shrugged his hands away, continuing to smooth down the black long-sleeved cashmere dress that fell to the center of her thigh as it skimmed her curved figure, "Nothing," she replied primly before placing a matching black cloak around her shoulders. Lucia clasped the ends of the cloak at the base of her throat with a simple moonstone broach. Still avoiding his gaze, she bent slightly to smooth up her suede black boots to rest above her knee before she finally allowed herself to raise her eyes to meet his. As she did so, she could see his confusion clearly.

"Nothing is wrong, I swear it," she added in a softer manner, earning understanding from her companion.

He bowed his head in aquiescense and murmured in Italian, "_Stai contento_."

"Come, we're late," she reiterated, holding out her hand.

He paused, about to say something in reply before shaking his head and taking her arm, leading her out of the room without another word.

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Legolas smiled as he heard his comrade burp for the _fifteenth_ time that evening. "_Ai, spangaer!_ You are a joy to be sure."

"Indeed," Haldir mumbled quietly through gritted teeth, desperately trying not look at the dwarf with disgust, "_Antolle ulua sulrim_," He added softly in his own tongue. It was beyond him to understand how Legolas could actually stand to be in the same company as such a loud, arrogant dwarf like Gimli but although Haldir was displeased with the dwarf's conduct and crude behavior, deep down, he still held the utmost respect for the Fellowship member... Despite his rather vile habits and lack of manners.

Gimli snorted in derision, hiding a smirk in the depths of his mahogany beard, "Galadhrim elves," he muttered to himself, "Such prissy little, pointy-eared girly boys; it's no wonder they can't hold their drink."

Haldir shot a look of utter contempt at the dwarf sitting across from him, forcing Legolas to bury his chuckles behind his hand.

"I don't know why you're laughing, Princeling," Gimli grunted, "You're no better!"

Legolas shot the dwarf a murderous glare before returning his attention to Haldir, "How does guarding Lórien fare in these times of peace, Haldir?" He asked, swiftly diverting the conversation away from what would become an impending eruption of male egos.

"It is going well," Haldir commented solemnly, "The occasional vagabond orc tribes try to come through our borders but they have no master and as such, they are restless. Though, we have been quite efficient in ridding them from our land."

Legolas nodded and smiled.

It was wonderful to be back in Lórien, to the see The Golden Wood one last time before he made his way to return home to Mirkwood, to his realm and his father. Ever since the end of the Quest two decades ago, he had been restless... But that soon changed when Gimli recently approached him with a rather bold suggestion; to go on a purging mission across Middle-earth. It seemed that the Lord of the Glittering Caves had been itching for action for many years prior. And so, they agreed to travel the land, searching for any fell beasts that may have escaped their attention, but mostly enjoying their adventures by exploring the depths of Middle-earth.

Their travels had finally brought them back to Lothlórien, so that they may take a moment of rest before they departed the fair woods and head on towards Minas Tirith to pay a surprise visit to Aragorn one last time before the Company finally parted ways. It would be a sad day when he would have to return to Mirkwood and leave Gimli... And yet, he could faintly hear the call of the sea, beckoning him-lulling him to do it's final bidding like an orchestrated lyre...

"Do you know if the Lord and Lady have decided to leave these shores?" Legolas asked curiously. He knew that the time of the Elves was coming to an end and that his people were leaving this land, but with the departure of the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, it made everything all the more final. It would be a melancholy time for many to see the Golden Wood bereft of light and laughter.

Haldir shook his head, "Nothing is certain yet," he paused, tilting his head as though he were listening to an inner voice-like the calling of the sea.

"Is everything all right?" Legolas asked in concern, looking at the March Warden's flashing eyes. Deep down he knew what his friend was feeling and it pained him to think of such things.

Haldir blinked, "Aye," he replied swiftly, forcing his face to wash away any remnants of the wistful emotions that he may have displayed, "Twas merely a passing thought," he forced himself to smile at his two companions.

"Indeed," the dwarf added sarcastically, "You _are_ looking a little pale though, even for one of your kind. Are you sure you can hold your drink?" Gimli teased lightly. He silently congratulated himself as a look of disbelief and anger flashed across the March Warden's face, diverting him from his previous gloomy thoughts. Gimli was good at such distractions, and the dwarf damn well knew it.

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They walked quickly and quietly through the sandstone underground tunnels, buried deep beneath the luscious ground of fair Verona. Not a single mortal soul knew of the hidden beehive under the ancient city that spanned out across beneath the entire landscape of northern Italy; so it would remain until the passing of time, hidden away from the curious, badgering eyes of mortals.

Arm in arm, they weaved through the passageways with innate accuracy, as though they had been treading those paths for centuries, even millennia. Without haste, they glided through the approaching archway, made from an ancient marble, into the main meeting room where they would gather with the other members of the various clans.

Lucia paused at the entranceway as her hazel eyes scanned the interior appreciatively. It was bereft of any furniture and fittings, just the way she liked things. Flaming ruby torches were mounted upon the glistening ebony walls and the only piece of furniture present in the high-ceilinged black marble hall, was the rectangular table situated at the center of the room and the chairs that accompanied it.

She noted that all five clan leaders were already sitting at their respective stations, with another member from their particular clans, each standing behind the stone chairs; of course two out of the five clan leaders were missing a person behind their chairs and Lucia obviously knew that herself and Dante were the only ones late. She silently cursed her weakness when it came to Dante.

Mother and Father were at the head of the table and she couldn't help but glance at them in awe. They never showed themselves unless they were absolutely needed. She wondered what could be wrong, to have brought out such titans from the depths of their lair. They were so beautiful, it almost made her weep...

Dante tugged her arm insistently before she continued to walk in the direction of the table. The flames from the torches flickered ominously, as if they knew of the peril that seemed to lay ahead.

Without a word she moved to stand behind the leader of her clan, her father, who was currently glaring at her with fury. She avoided his gaze, knowing she would be scolded for her tardiness behind closed doors. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Dante move to stand behind his own clan's leader, who was, strangely enough, his own father. His face remained expressionless like that of an archaic statue. Perfect and lifeless like a child's doll.

Lucia's eyes skimmed the silent portrait of Dante's father and she couldn't help the sudden rage that bloomed within her chest. He was... She had no words to describe the disgust and hate she felt for that man; he had taken everything away from her. And there was not a thing she could do about it. Her breath left her body as his onyx eyes landed upon her, holding her in a silent battle. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards, and his eyes flashed suggestively, as if they were beckoning her.

She felt remotely sick.

"We may begin."

Lucia blinked and looked away from the clan leader as Mother's husky voice sprang forth, echoing in the strangely quiet room. "We have summoned the five clans of the Vampyre here today, the Ventrue, Tremere, Malkavian, Gangrel and the Assamite, to fulfil their duty to their brethren," Mother continued slowly, "Do you accept the task that we may ask of you?" Her cocoa brown eyes observed each clan leader before they nodded once to satisfy her.

"Trouble begins to stir in this world," Father's voice boomed out suddenly, forcing Lucia to flinch marginally, "We have come to learn that our world is not the only one that exists..." He trailed off, soaking in the reactions of the five clan leaders and their five respective offspring standing behind each of their chairs, "There are other worlds, linked to the very brink of our own-in another dimension if you will. We have been able to sense these dimensions for many centuries. However with our pride and arrogance, we ignored them. But recently, one particular energy from another world has grown proportionate to ours and it seems to threaten the very existence of this world."

Lucia frowned. What did he mean by that?

"Tell me," Father said softly, "Have any of you been dreaming? Of far away lands that seem so vivid, so tangible as if they were real?"

Her hands grew cold at the question, and she found herself agreeing with the other clan leaders and members that she was indeed having strange dreams-dreams so real, that she could almost feel the cool wind upon her skin, could almost map out every minuscule detail of her surroundings...

"I was afraid of this," Mother commented quietly in contrast, "They are not dreams, my children, they are real. For now, due our keen senses, only vampyres will be able to cross this dimensional divide. Your dreams are of you all bearing witness and entering this new world. Humans do not know what exists on the other side, they are witless. But we-we know the truth. The wall between this world and this new dimension is crumbling. And if we continue to ignore this fact, the strongest of us, the more _susceptive_ will be taken by this new dimension and there will be no coming back from it."

Murmurs and frantic whispering broke out amongst the five seated leaders. Mother held out her hand for them to stop and the room grew silent once more, "The dimensional fabric of our world is colliding with this new world," she repeated sternly, "If we _do_ continue to ignore this problem, our worlds will collide and clash and the Vampyre may become non-existent. We cannot take the risk of allowing our world to mesh with this new one."

"What do you suggest we do?" Dante's father barked suddenly.

Lucia grimaced at his callous behavior towards _them_.

"We wish to open a portal, using the Tremere's magick skill, so that we may send a member from each of your clan into this other world where they may find a way to stop our worlds from colliding; they need to find the key."

"Who shall we send? We cannot go, we have our own clans to observe," Lucia's own father spoke now, voicing the concerns of the five clans. It was true, the clan leaders could not leave, for they had their own dealings to tend to.

Father of the Vampyre looked at Lucia's own father briefly before gesturing to the standing offspring from the five clans, "Your kin will go, they are all strong and wise. They will not fail us."

In the dimly lit room, Lucia could sense her father's shoulders tense at the prospect of having to send her into another world. She looked at the other standing offspring of the clan leaders, noting that she and the mystical Tremere clan's daughter were the only female offspring present. She was certain that if her father had a son, he would have sent him gladly into this new world... But she was his only child, his only daughter and that troubled him more than he would care to admit.

"We will send them on their mission tomorrow, they are not to come back until they have found a way to stop our world from bleeding into this new world," she stood slowly from her seat, as did Father, "Go now, and rest. Tomorrow will be the beginning of many hardships for your blood children." With that said, they walked out of the room, leaving the clan leaders and their children struck silent in the ebony room.

If Lucia had a heart, she was certain it would be pounding at the prospect of such an-an... Adventure! Of course, she knew her father would not see it that way, and that thought was confirmed as he stood from his seat and turned to face her with an unreadable expression.

The other leaders of the Tremere, Malkavian and Gangrel rose silently, making their own exit as swift as possible. They had much to discuss with their selected offspring, chosen for this strange mission in the name of brotherhood. All were stunned by what had been spoken, the normally violent and animalistic Gangrel members were somehow strangely subdued. Lucia didn't know if that could be considered a good thing. Of course, families would be torn apart with this mission, but in the end, all that mattered was the brotherhood and the safety of their race.

Lucia noted that Dante's father, the Assamite clan leader, had not moved from his seat as he stared across the room at one of the brightly lit torches, thinking to himself and ignoring all else. Her hate of him was not displayed in her face, it was buried deep within the black recess of her soul. Dante too, remained standing behind him as he waited for his father to complete his musings.

She turned as she felt her father's rough palm gently brush across her cheek. He lightly cupped her chin, causing her to look at him with questioning eyes, "_Papa_?"

Khai smiled at his daughter and only child, "How shall I ever let you leave, my Ventrue daughter?" He murmured to her in his gentle, eastern accent.

She frowned and reached out her hand to brush away the curly brown locks, from his eyes, that framed her father's handsome face, "I will be fine Papa," she assured him quietly, smiling as his hazel eyes, that mirrored her own, brightened with pride.

"I know," he sighed as he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss upon her crown. Sometimes, Lucia wished that she had inherited her father's height. But fate had not been kind and instead, she received her mother's short Italian stature. It was strange though, most of the vampyre men she had encountered preferred shorter female lovers. She wasn't certain as to why; perhaps it made them feel more powerful.

"Are you coming?" Her father asked suddenly as he turned to leave.

Lucia shook her head, "I might wait for Dante, Papa. I'll see you early in the morning," she turned to look at her lover, missing the anger upon her father's face at the mention of the Assamite leader's son. It was clear to any outsider that the Ventrue and Assamite clan leaders bore intense hatred for one another, but that this hatred was lost upon their offspring. Lucia carried her own hatred for the Assamite leader, but was oblivious to her father's contempt of the vampyre.

Khai nodded as his daughter turned to look at him once more, washing away the anger that had previously consumed him. He kissed her cheeks before leaving the room with a stony expression.

Lucia cocked her head thoughtfully. She did not know why her father acted so strangely at times around Dante. It was rather odd... Sighing, she glanced at Dante and caught his eye. She nodded slightly as he motioned for her to leave without him, she knew that he would follow her in his own time.

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The left side of the bed dipped slightly as he slid in behind her. His naked arm coiled itself around the warm flesh of her waist as he hugged her to him. Lucia reached up to blow out the cream candle on the nearby oak dresser.

"Do you love me Lucia?" Dante whispered lightly into her ear, his fingers gently kneading her toned stomach.

The question threw her, catching her off guard.

She froze briefly before turning around in his arms to face him. His emerald eyes flickered with sincerity and she knew that he deserved nothing but the truth.

"No," she breathed the word out as if she was expelling the centuries worth of guilt she harbored for not loving him, "I don't love you, Dante."

His face gave away nothing, but his eyes shone with regret and disappointment, "Then I shall wait," he released her from his embrace and settled himself beside her on the soft bed, "I have all of eternity to wait for you."

As he released her from his grasp, she was suddenly left feeling bereft, like she was floating in the center of an expansive crystalline lake at the foot of the Alpes... So alone, so afraid and-so cold.

"Did your father say much about what tomorrow's mission would mean?" Lucia asked quickly, changing the subject as she looked up at the dark ceiling. She felt him shrug against her whilst he sighed heavily.

"He is suspicious of Mother and Father's intentions."

Lucia's brow furrowed, "I suppose... It's strange that they would want to send the children of the clan leaders; the heirs of the clans on what seems like a dangerous mission. But on the other hand, we are considered strong due to our parentage."

She heard and felt his wry smile as he spoke against her shoulder, "That's exactly what my father thought. Though... There was something in his eyes that makes me doubt this situation."

"All will be revealed tomorrow I suspect," she commented thoughtfully, turning on her side to press into her lover's naked form, "It will be remarkable to see the Tremere clan's mystical power at full force, won't it? It has been years since something this significant has come about."

Dante frowned, "They rely too much on their magick."

"You only say that because you are a warrior, born and bred," she teased whilst drawing light circles around his belly button, making him shiver beneath her fingers.

"As are you," he countered indignantly, grasping her wrist firmly as he pulled her up to straddle him. Her eyebrow rose as she felt him hard and willing, straining against the inside of her thigh.

Lucia smiled, baring her teeth as she slowly allowed him to ease into her willing body from below.

"Fine," she whispered coyly whilst slowly rocking her hips as she enfolded him tightly in her depths, "Then I will show you exactly how much of a warrior I can be," her hand slid down to where they were joined and she let him watch as she pleasured them both with her wandering fingers. The growl she earned was soft, almost like a purr, that it made her laugh. She didn't know what it was, but having sex with Dante was always a new experience. _Always_.

"Do you love me Lucia?" He murmured hopefully in repetition, gripping her hips as he began to set a rough pace for them.

She gasped at the new sensations he caused within her, "No!" She cried out again, tilting her head back as a spark ignited at the base of her abdomen, causing ripples of delicious pleasure to shoot up through her center like the presence of gentle sea waves rolling onto a golden shore. Lucia leaned forward and sunk her teeth into the column of his neck. As the salty liquid trickled into her mouth, she came violently, moaning against the love wound. Dante groaned, flipping her off of him and onto the bed so that he could find his own pleasure. It came quickly and the pair soon found themselves moving slowly against each other once more. He pressed his forehead against her own and looked deep into her hazel eyes, never ceasing his movements.

The question still exuded from his shimmering emerald orbs and her answer remained the same through her own misty hazel eyes. No words needed to be spoken; she had won the battle for tonight. But she knew that she had certainly not won the war.

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She could feel herself falling.

Falling.

Falling.

_Falling _

Spiralling towards an endless ebony abyss-but she couldn't remember why... Or how? She must be dreaming, she reasoned. Yes, that must be exactly what it was. But her kind don't have dreams, at least that is what she believed.

Her last memory was of feeding after making love.

The warm liquid in her mouth had been wonderfully intoxicating. The bittersweet mixture, like an aphrodisiac, coating her tongue luxuriously as she gulped down the life essence that flowed into her mouth like an endless river. She was becoming thirsty for more just thinking about it, like a mortal addict craving for greater quantities of mind-nubming drugs...

A groan escaped her parched lips and she could feel herself being awoken by a cool breeze upon her naked flesh. She scowled with her eyes closed, distinctly aware that something was sniffing her. It moved towards her ear and she almost giggled at the sensation, "Dante, stop that!" When the sniffing would not cease, she growled quietly.

Forcing her eyes to open, she was blinded by rays of light.

A cry was wrenched from her lips. She squinted, blinking and wondering why the sun was not affecting her as it should. She put her hand up to her eyes, shielding them from the bright burning sun and saw the shadow of a man hovering above her. A blush crept into her cheeks; realising that she was naked, she raised her arms to cover herself, but found that she had been covered by a delicately woven sheet or cloth of some sort.

The man crouched down beside her, speaking to her in a soft language that she did not recognize. For centuries she had lived, but she could not pin-point the language... At all. This revelation startled and frightened her at the same time.

Another gruff voice caught her attention, and this time she openly gawked at the creature standing a few feet from her. He was short, like a gnome or some kind of dwarf and had a mighty long ginger beard; he also seemed to be wearing and carrying some form of armour and weapons... He looked a bit like a midget, as humans seemed to call the vertically challenged, that had a deep fascination for dressing up. But, there was something far different about him. An aura surrounded him that made him seem unlike any other creature or human she had ever encountered.

Lucia blinked as the rather disgustingly smelly and dirty, but strangely handsome, man continued to speak to her gently but urgently. She could not understand him. She shook her head, allowing the confusion she felt to be surfaced in her hazel depths. There was many a time she had found herself in trouble, but this really was something that was utterly beyond her.

And dear lord, she was certainly in very **big** trouble.

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**Translations:**

_Ai, spangaer-_Oh bearded one! (endearment).

_Antolle ulua sulrim-_Much wind pours from your mouth (Haldir means this literally! .)

_Stai Contento_-If you're happy, I'm happy.

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**_AN:_** I hope you enjoyed the first installment; stick around, you might like where this is going!


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